Heero's Good Fortune
by Kaeru Shisho
Summary: Heero introduces his new best friend to his other friends with a composure perhaps unmerited and gets them back for their past boyfriend introductions. Told in two parts.
1. Chapter 1

**Heero's Good Fortune**

Summary: Heero introduces his new best friend to his other friends with a composure perhaps unmerited. Told in two parts.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks to Waterlily for her generous feedback and edits and suggestions which made this story as good as it is.

Warning: Yaoi, AU

**Part 1**

"When you said you met this Duo fellow by accident—" My friend Wufei started out mistaken from the start. This came from rushing headlong into a thing- a cause, an argument, a simple story-telling.

Cautionary note, one which I ignored entirely and to my benefit: don't let your emotions rule your head.

"Heero said he'd been _in _an accident," Quatre declared.

I was glad it was another of my friends, and not I who had to correct him. It meant it was Quatre who received the evil eye.

"And don't look at me that way."

"And what way is that?" Wufei scoffed in return.

Ignoring the silly argument threatening to eat up the afternoon, I persisted in my attempt to get through the "how we met" story before its subject arrived. And I had a method. I'd planned this out so as to irritate them just enough to get even. I had had to endure the retelling of Wufei's storybook fairytale romance with Zechs Merquise enough times to recognize each iteration's embellishments. And I had had Trowa's in-your-face, one-nighters to hear about and Quatre's eventual, and by my accounts inevitable, taming of the playboy story to listen to.

They could damn well suffer through my story, made up parts and all.

"As crashes go," I said, "it wasn't all that big, not like on one of those news shows, where they say it sounded like a Mobile suit assault. This was more like being hit from behind by an out-of-balance washing machine."

"Hold on." The last of my friends to be heard from stopped my recitation, as I had expected he would. The only surprise was that he'd let me get this far.

"Yes?"

"You weren't suspicious that this happened?" Trowa never took anything that happened at face value. He was forever on the hunt for the deeper intent, the devious workings, and the dark subplots lurking on the fringes.

"No." I did not then or now.

"You drive a BMW sports car. A car like that _screams_ rich-ass driver, making you a target for-"

Cutting him off at the shadowy alley where the rich are mugged by the desperate, Wufei reminded us all that: "Rear-end collisions are less likely to go for well for the car behind, from the point of view of the insurance adjuster."

"I was thinking of a faked-accident-turn-robbery," Trowa pressed on. "Those are becoming _all the rage_ in crime these days."

"Don't be ridiculous. You want to hear the rest?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, we do!" Quatre earnestly insisted. "I want to know everything about this wonderful new man in your life." He shone in the dusty light of the garage, but he sparkled in the sunlight.

"The driver was, as I was to quickly discover, to become my new best friend, Duo, recently from L2. His car, a death trap, had folded. To quote him, '-adapting the shape of an accordion, but, alas, one never again to make beautiful music.' He seemed sad to see it that way and I thought even mournful. You have something to say, Wufei?"

He had snorted. He had made it a sound of contempt. "I _will_," he promised. "Proceed."

"When he piled into the back of my car—"

"Just a moment!" Now Wufei had something to say. "Were you blocking traffic?"

"You both were not badly hurt, right? That was good." Bless you Quatre.

"Why did you let him get into your car?" Trowa asked.

"We had pulled to the side of the street. I quickly determined that I was unhurt. I couldn't determine his condition. He seemed dazed and unsteady on his feet, so I opened the door to the back seat of my car, suggesting he sit a moment and collect his thoughts."

"That was nice of you," Quatre said.

"Thank you. He'd cut his lip right here." I pointed to where using my face.

"It was _not_ nice. It was reckless," Trowa said. "The man could have pulled a knife on you."

"I agree. You should have suspected he was out for his own gain." That came from Wufei.

Trowa approved wholeheartedly and looked pleased to have Wufei's support. "Robbery attempt, at least."

I guessed Trowa had been working robbery cases lately for Preventers, and Quatre hadn't been able to get him to detach from his job.

"Oh, Trowa, not everyone has evil intentions." Quatre beamed at me. "Was he injured anywhere else?"

"He said not. He confessed to having too much home brew –" I knew that would get a rise out of all of them.

"Drunk driving! And you didn't notify the police!" Wufei shouted with indignation.

"I was stunned by his beauty." I guessed that might aggravate them, too.

Quatre chuckled. "A thief who stole your heart?"

Trowa let out a low moan. "I can't believe this. You being remotely sympathetic to anyone driving drunk."

"Your insurance agency could collect-!" Wufei insisted.

"Thank you, Wufei, for looking out for me and my insurance company."

"You have no reason to be impertinent to me!" Wufei said and giving me his bruised look. Boo hoo.

"We should let him go on, everybody. I'm sure he has a good explanation," Quatre said. His expression begged for me to offer up a reasonable justification. "He's teasing us, can't you tell? I'm positive he wouldn't have been so complacent had Duo actually been drunk."

Quatre wasn't called the brains of the operation for no good reason. Also he cheated and "read" the emotions of others. Mine must have been pretty damn complacent. It was time to introduce another irritant into my story before they became bored with it.

"He was… distracted with worry for Shinigami, the pet cat he reluctantly left back home in the care of a friend named Hilde, residing on colony L2."

"Sounds like a load of crap," Trowa surmised.

"I think it's sad," Quatre said. "I wonder why he couldn't bring the cat with him when he left?"

"Probably the flea-bitten mongrel couldn't get past the health requirements for importation!" Wufei submitted. "Well, now we are getting somewhere. L2 colony. Naturally."

Trowa didn't let Wufei continue to tell me why anything fell into place as a result of Duo's having come from L2. "That's racial profiling."

"I know what it is!" Wufei snapped, taking the bait, "I can say anything I like. This is Heero's garage and not a workplace, besides, we all know you were thinking the same thing as well, that it was intentional on his part for us to think that since he revealed the detail."

Well, of course. Moving on. "In the late night darkness, he made a promise to pay for any damage: 'I give you my word, mister, and a word is all a poor L2 colonial dude has to give. On my honor, this misfortune will be set straight, and I apologize for the trouble my Shinigami has caused this evening.'"

"He deserved a good tongue-lashing for breaking the law, drinking and driving…or distracted by his cat.. or whatever his excuse. It could have been a serious accident. It would have been completely within your rights to call for the police," Wufei concluded. "It is the law, actually, to report accidents." He looked to Trowa for conformation, which he got from this look of triumph spreading across his face.

"I don't think it was Shinigami who caused the trouble so much as whatever was really worrying him," Quatre said, sighing.

I felt sorry for my kind friend trying to balance his feline adoration with his desire to support me, Duo, whom he'd not yet met, and placating the others.

"You did collect his insurance information… name, residence, driver's license number?" Wufei pressed.

Trowa sat up. I knew he was mentally running through the steps he would take the moment he got his hands on that information. I needed to eliminate that possibility. "At the shake of a hand, a deal was made—"

"What!?" They practically harmonized.

"- Duo was to drop off a payment every Sunday afternoon at my house-."

"Oh, Heero! You are very trusting."

"Too much so, and borderline insane," Trowa concluded. "To believe a total stranger like that? You very well might never have seen Duo again."

I wondered when my dear friend and investigator for Preventers had expanded his work experience to become my psychiatrist. I nearly asked him, but the sarcasm didn't wear well on me, so I let it all pass.

"I assume the man had no insurance, another law broken, since he is legally obliged to have it to be licensed in Sanc. Oh. My. God! He's unlicensed to boot! Then there's the DUI…or not… Heero, there's still time. Give me what you have on him and I'll get the ball rolling. We can get his wages attached—"

"Wufei!" Quatre cried out in his most scornful voice. "Heero won't do any of the things you are suggesting. You know he likes Duo. That's why we're all here."

Duo had really gotten to me, yes. I didn't bother telling them that I had given him money to taxi home, wherever that had been at the time. It wasn't any longer. He'd moved. Yes, I could gloss over that because I had a much more significant piece of the story to unveil.

"And the damage was very small, wasn't it?" Quatre asked, again, trying to move the story along.

"I estimated that for my car the total amount of the damage was a little over a thousand credits-"

"Ridiculous!" Wufei had out his small notebook device and was pecking madly away at it. "I saw your car at the shop. They won't even look at it for that amount. Give me your receipts!"

I ignored the demand. "- to which Duo, on his first visit, exclaimed, while handing me a ten credit chip, 'It will take some time, my friend, but we will travel this road together, and we will have a drink about it at the end.' "

"Seems to me he'd better lay off the booze," Trowa drawled. "You know he's going to bugger out on this deal, right?"

"Even if he follows through, at that rate it would take him years, no less than two, to repay you," Wufei determined, while still punching in numbers and typing away.

"He liked to remind me that he, as owner of Shinigami, was responsible for any damage caused by the troublesome cat—" I went on, or tried to.

Wufei snorted. "Oh yes. Even if the cat resided two thousand sectors away in a place cloaked by a blanket of artificial air and shielded by layers upon layers of material impervious to every kind of energy ray and substance known to man, _he_ was responsible."

"Duo always looked to the horizon while saying these things. He had an earnest practicality along with a vision of the future." I may have been wearing a dreamy expression. Thinking about him did that to me.

Trowa laughed outright "Sure you weren't blindsided by this Duo dude?"

Quatre kicked at him as he stood up. "Poor Duo!"

"So what is he doing on Earth?" Trowa asked. He started walking to the door leading into my house. "Working?"

"He can't be making much if he can only afford to pay such small amount! OH! I see! Duo wants to drag the timeline of visits out!" Quatre looked pleased with having come up with his romance-laced, logical conclusion.

Trowa disappeared into my house. I assumed he'd gone to use the bathroom. The rest of us were dotted around my garage with the door up.

"As if _that's_ a recommendation!" Wufei snarled at Quatre, which he could only if Trowa was not around to protect him, I think. "And no mention of how he'd put you out, damaging your car. You had no inkling that the man was relying on your good will to carry out his worthless-?"

"But he's come every Sunday," Quatre cut him off, "Right, Heero? He's trying!"

"He has, and during each of Duo's visits, he gladly accepted an offer of an ice cold beer, sadly not a home brew, but one I'd chosen from a local, distinguished brewery. Two's his limit."

"You supply him with alcohol when you know, first hand, he's a drunkard!" Wufei could, and had, worked himself into a state over minor things. "Dear Lord! Heero! I agree with Barton this time. You have gone off the deep end."

"So, you've labeled him a drunkard already? Didn't you understand, Duo hadn't been drinking; it hadn't caused the accident," Quatre corrected. "It was his worrying about his kitty cat, which I agreecan be a distraction."

"You and _your_ awful, awful cat—" Wufei started a new rant, which I interrupted.

"Every payment was placed in a cigar box, labeled, 'Shinigami's Misfortune.'"

"That's sweet, Heero." Quatre showered me with one of his gentle smiles. It had a trickle-down effect that warmed me top to bottom with his well-being.

"Thanks." I smiled with him. His eyes were tracking Trowa now, reentering the garage, where we were all seated on cardboard boxes. He carried with him a sheaf of papers.

"And after three months of Sundays, the total cash payments amounted to-? What's this?" Wufei immediately bounced up to meet him. Sparkly things caught attention of crows; for Wufei it was paper, forms, litigation, documents of any kind. No wonder he was a lawyer. He took all the papers from Trowa and scanned them for information.

I shook the cigar box and related the sum total of its contents to date. "$162.29."

"I see." Wufei returned to his stack of cardboard boxes, where he had set up a temporary office. He tablet poised upright on one, the papers next to it. He typed furiously. "$5500 for your car's repair… and what is this additional cost? No… no… you didn't!" The last past coming out in a choking gasp of air.

"I didn't?" I teased.

"You repaired _his_ car!" Wufei screeched; his voice cracked.

"I passed it several times that first week. He'd abandoned it, because he couldn't afford to have it towed, and, obviously, hadn't funds to fix it himself."

"Dear God…" Wufei moaned. "You are aware that it IS possible to do the minimal $600 repair, enough to license a repainted bug, get it to pass emissions, and use it as basic, somewhat reliable transportation-."

"I don't even see why you felt the need to do that much," Trowa said. "He drove into your car."

"He was at fault and knew he'd broken several laws, and yet you … OH MY GOD!"

Quatre ran to assist Trowa, who had caught a swooning Wufei. "What's wrong?"

"He probably discovered the bill for the car's full restoration," I told him.

"That's like purchasing a brand new vehicle," Trowa said.

"The place literally took the entire car apart and put it all back together again _by hand_." I smiled. "The end result: a nifty, brand new, hand-crafted car."

Trowa nodded his agreement. "Yeah, most reliable shops will end up doing that. What's the name of the place you used again? I have a Ferrari I've been meaning to fix up, but I'll never get to it, I know."

"Stop that! We can't condone what he did!" When Trowa leaned over him to get a look at the shop mechanic's name, Wufei nearly punched him in the face with his wild swing. "Don't hang over me! And _do not_ let Yuy think this is in any way an acceptable expenditure!"

I was talking mostly to Trowa now, who wanted the particulars. "—couldn't figure out how to inconspicuously install a radiator, modify the pan and get it to pass inspection."

"Not a car like that," Trowa thrummed with excitement.

I knew about the old sports car he had up on blocks and draped with canvas in his garage. He'd once told me how he'd dreamed to have it in racing condition. That was when he had free time; before he'd met Quatre. "However, they found they could easily get 150HP out of a pancake 4."

"That the same engine that sits in the Porsche 914?" he asked me.

"Yes, and even the 912 with a 6 cylinder variation behind the 911."

"Steering upgrade?" Trowa pressed.

"You don't need power steering... the front of the car is very light. But I agreed to upgrade the electrical system and install a modern stereo and HID lighting. Same for NAV and PW's. The interior was easy enough-."

When I dared to look, I noticed that Wufei was sitting, head in hand, staring at the sheets of paperwork from the VW restoration shop.

Quatre was bent over him, comforting him as best he could. "It's all spent now, Wufei, so it's too late to do anything about it. Besides, it must look very nice and be quite valuable." He looked my way and asked, "We'll see it soon, won't we?"

"Yes, he'll be driving it over." I returned to my discussion with Trowa. "Trouble was with torsion bar suspension it couldn't handle too much additional weight without upgrades."

"You did those of course."

"Oh, yeah. It will never drive and feel like a modern car, but it was a worthy project and looks very nice and tasteful."

"What was the bottom line?" Trowa asked. "I'm really thinking I'll have that Ferrari done now."

"For that? Expect to pay $20,000 to $100,000 depending on how much quality you want in the vehicle." I smiled as Trowa's eyes, visible _eye_, widened and then I have him the final, reasonable number. "It cost me 30 grand."

"Not bad at all. If I had to do it myself, it would take me years. I think I'll have the big items jobbed out and leave the fun parts to do myself. I want technology upgrades—"

Wufei had recovered sufficiently to let me have it. "You realize that you are spending more on him than he is paying you back at this point? He's hardly keeping up on the beer tab! He'll never catch up."

"It's unlikely," I said. "But he seems to have a plan."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Wufei muttered.

Trowa patted the box he was sitting on. "It have anything to do with all this shit in your garage?"

"Yes," I said. Nothing got past Trowa. "In addition to the money, Duo unloaded what he called 'valuable mementos to help us reach our destination.'"

"_His _destination, you mean," Wufei corrected with the precision of an account, or tax attorney. "Which, appears to be your house."

I was tempted to give him the punch line right then, but didn't. I knew the impact would be greatest in a few minutes.

"Oh, these are his things?" Quatre peeked into one of the boxes. None were sealed.

"They are," I conceded. "Duo began by stacking the items in a pile that started in that corner of my garage and gradually spread toward the center."

"As if sucking up your goodwill and money hasn't been enough," Wufei said, "he must take over your home as well. Yuy, I'm afraid I must step in and get the law involved."

"This reminds me of a movie I watched the other night, The Blob. It grew and grew." Trowa spread his arms in demonstration and Quatre slipped within his embrace.

"Much like an ominous town-eating lava flow," Wufei pointed out.

"Which one was this?" I asked.

Trowa frowned. "Which one what?"

"Which hunky star?" I clarified.

Quatre laughed and supplied the answer. "Steve McQueen."

McQueen, the actor, was long dead, so I didn't think Quatre had anything to worry about, and he didn't act like he thought so either. When Trowa discovered a man he liked the look of, he'd get a fixation. It made him good at his job and, at one time, a bit of a randy boyfriend, until Quatre discovered that watching old movies supplied Trowa with sufficient eye candy to curb his appetite. I'm sure he had a few other tricks as well.

That and the fact that Quatre himself was a handful, or so I understood Trowa to say. He had called him "high maintenance, but in a good way". I interpreted that to mean that the CEO of Winner Enterprises would require his boyfriend's undivided attention, knew how to make that happen, and Trowa didn't mind it in the least. They both seemed happy.

"So what's Duo's plan got to do with this crap?" Trowa asked, getting us back to the subject at hand.

Quatre peeled himself off Trowa' chest and experimentally opened another of Duo's boxes. "Ha!" he laughed.

"Duo said to me," I related, "'It is my dream that one day we will have the king of all garage sales; people will come from miles around, and once they realize the value of the collection, money will flow from their wallets, and Shinigami's debt will be paid.'"

"How poetic of him," Trowa said.

"Oh, Heero," Quatre said sorrowfully. "I don't think you are doing very well out of this arrangement."

"You're damned right he's not!" Wufei agreed gleefully. "Not only is he losing money right and left, but he has lost his one day off."

I must have made a sound he didn't like, a chuckle possibly, because he riveted his beady, black eyes on me and proceeded to give an accounting of my current state of affairs, as per Duo.

"Your free Sunday afternoons _are no longer_." Why Wufei had decided to sound like a bad voice over of himself, I couldn't guess, except that it was his feeble attempt at sounding dramatic. "You are spending a fortune on beer, but nothing matches the fortune you have paid a car shop to fix your car and restore the other man's, _the leech's_. And now, your garage has been taken over by junk! It is criminal!"

"Oh, how cute!" Quatre had found something of Duo's that he liked. He held it up so we could all see the electric owl clock with eyes that went side to side with the ticking;

Quatre and Trowa rifled through a couple boxes, uncovering a wealth of, well… Some highlights of Duo's other mementos:

- Queen's greatest hits album, very used condition;

-Box of ancient DVD movies, all action-type;

-Three buckets of assorted nails, screws, and mismatched hardware;

-Coasters representing biker bars from all over the universe;

-Four red-striped vinyl chairs, which I coveted because I had the matching table in the kitchen;

-One stuffed armadillo named "Solo";

-Assorted posters, all hot young men. No comment except that it kept Trowa occupied for most of the afternoon after that.

-Blue-stained wood lamp with torn peacock fabric shade and dangly glass beads- for "pizazz", Duo had said, when he'd shown it to me;

-Black candelabra embellished with smoky crystals and what appeared to be barbed wire;

-Banana-shaped comb.

As if fueled by movements of unstoppable, underground tectonic plates, the pile had mushroomed and included many hand-made wooden crates brimming with tools from different eons and varying degrees of rust and disrepair.

"What are these?" Wufei asked, at last giving up the pretense of disinterest. He lifted the lid on a very large crate at the back.

It held, for all appearances, unidentifiable parts. "Those are from what Duo called his 'old skipper-ship' and it choked him up to look at them," I explained.

"Oh dear," Quatre said. His eyes moistened, looking deceptively as if he might cry. I'd seen him do this before. He could appear weak and emotional, but he had rhino-tough skin and a heart encased in Gundanium. "These are all Duo's possessions, aren't they?"

I had wondered myself. "Once, I questioned Duo as to the origin of the items, since some seemed very well-used. Again, he looked toward the horizon while replying, 'They come to me while I'm driving, praying to the Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, and hoping for an end to my hardship. Wait and see, my friend. Destiny has brought us together on this journey, and every day I dream of the time when my collection of mementos brings an end to this problem I have burdened you with, an obligation brought upon by the curse of the reckless Shinigami.'"

I had taken him at his word that these were "findings" to sell. Now, though, looking back to each time he brought something, I could picture the care he'd taken unloading and placing them just so. I began to wonder if Quatre was right and these were his treasures.

"Ancestors protect me!" Wufei moaned; at least I think that's what he muttered. "And it's his own fault. He did a stupid thing, caused what could have been a much more dangerous accident, and is trying – with excruciating slothfulness – to compensate Heero. It's the consequences of acting stupidly and he's dragging it out to get Heero feeling sorry for him and let him off."

"I think he would have taken the car, sold it, and run if he'd been trying to pull a fast one on Heero." Quatre told him. "I keep wondering, though, that if he carted all this from L2, why couldn't he have brought his cat?"

"He didn't ship this. It would have cost him a mint," Trowa nudged the crate with his shoe. "More likely it's collected here, like he said."

"The man is getting free drinks AND free storage! I bet he'll never sell any of this!" Wufei railed. "And I'll bet my next paycheck that there's no damned cat!"

I looked over the garage. As the lava pile of amorphous bags and boxes expanded, threatening my prized collection of National Geographic magazines, I knew Duo and I shared the same dream. Get rid of it, sell it, and let him keep the proceeds.

Wufei was still on his rant. "The parasite might as well move in!"

Ah, my moment had arrived, the one I'd been waiting for. Time to spring the news.

"_He is_," I said. Heh, heh. I knew I should have invited Wufei's keeper to keep him from going apoplectic, but I absolutely hated Zechs.

Wufei's face drained of all color and his mouth gaped. "Eh?!"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heero's Good Fortune**

Summary: Heero introduces his new best friend to his other friends with a composure perhaps unmerited.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks to Waterlily for her generous feedback and edits and suggestions which made this story as good as it is.

Warning: Yaoi, AU

**Part 2**

"-And then I thought I had everything thought out. Duo had lost his job on L2 for a reason that was unimportant, but in order to avoid having to face the facts, he blamed his misfortunes on a mythical cat. He was in sorry need of a hand up, and I was there." I looked at Quatre and then Trowa. "And here we are."

"Where does he work now?" Trowa asked me.

"Sweepers."

"Just a minute." Quatre kissed Trowa on the top on his head. "I should check on Wufei. Don't tell anything while I get a drink, please?"

Trowa, unable to deny his boyfriend much, mimed a cross-your-heart, closed his eyes and stretched out on some boxes.

I didn't mind having a few minutes to myself, to think about Duo.

I had learned about Duo in bits and spurts in the first weeks of our friendship. He had been driven from his job at a scrapyard on L2 by an angry woman, named Hilde. Further discussion was apparently unnecessary, leaving me to speculate. His interests and hers took different paths? He wasn't ready for marriage? He "done her wrong", as they said in the old westerns? Whatever had happened, he departed, leaving his cat and most everything he owned behind.

So, there were some unanswerables, holes in his story you could float a cruise ship through. Curious as I was, I looked forward to a time in the near future when he would feel he could trust me with his secrets.

Currently, he was employed by a space sweeper named Howard. That much he had had to tell me one morning when he woke up in my arms and his cell phone started ringing. It was a company phone, he'd said. By his tone and polite restraint while conversing, I reckoned that it was a work-related call.

"That was Howard, my boss," he announced when the call had ended. "The Sweepers need me in to move some cargo. Later on. We still got time to fool around."

His assurances lured me back into bed for another round of lovemaking.

That was jumping ahead a bit.

Before that, but after the accident, came the nice discovery part, where we learned we both were gay and attracted to one another. For me, it happened when we passed each other going into the kitchen for beers. I felt him skim past close enough to touch. I tracked his eyes checking me out.

"I don't want to analyze this," I told him as I moved into his space. I could feel the heat radiating from him as I pinned his back to the wall with a hand to his chest. "I want to enjoy it." I could feel his heartbeat. It was racing.

I jerked his shirttails out of his pants and he gasped, "'Ro?"

"You've been in this long enough for one day," I told him and, since he made no motion to stop me, I unbuttoned the shirt, beginning at the hemline. "Hmm...nice skin."

"Yesss," he hissed in a quick intake of air, his teeth bared.

I watched his eyes close; my fingers slid over his smooth, hairless chest, down a lean side, around to his muscled back, back around his side, and over his firm belly. He was as beautiful as I'd imagined.

He grinned and flinched, "Tickles..."

That gave me an idea. Pausing in my tactile stimulation of his belly, my hands were free to massage his shoulders a moment before I shoved the shirt off. Down his back, along his arms it slid, catching at the wrists where the cuffs remained clasped. His arms were behind his back.

"You forgot the buttons here," he smiled.

But his smile faded as mine grew, and I whispered slyly, "Did I?" Then I started tickling him in earnest.

I only had him trapped momentarily. He twisted away amid giggles and tore the shirt off. "Now, it is my turn," he growled.

I saw a flash of a toothy grin.

"OH!" I couldn't believe how quickly he had moved out of my grasp. I'd reeled him in, but I couldn't hold on to a slippery eel like him.

Make that an octopus. Arms everywhere! Now it was I who was wrapped in his strong grasp. Again, we studied one another's eyes.

"Duo. I know you know what you are doing, but..." I paused to watch his eyes opened wider, dark blue and mysterious in the low bedroom light. "Do you know what you are doing...to me?"

"I gotta fucking good idea," he answered gamely. His breathing was ragged, his eyes luminous, and his smile tense. He wanted me bad, and I knew it. He had to know I wanted him, too.

He swallowed. "What will you have me do?" He was asking, but his fingers were slowly lowering the zipper of my jeans.

I was falling in love for the first time and there was no stopping it or the zipper's progress.

"Kiss me?" I asked, demanded, even. "Kiss me again," I begged the moment he pulled away.

We stood by the window and kissed gently, nose-to-nose. It was odd kissing a man taller than me, not much taller, but I had to turn my face up to his. Duo was well-built, and at the same time slender, his face youthful, pale, unmarked by freckles or sun, perfect...eyes closed with long, dark lashes. His silky, soft hair brushed my arms wrapped around his neck. I wanted to free it from its weave and feel it tickle my bare skin sometime soon.

It could be **now**- I remember thinking- if I do something! So, I bent into him and slid an arm beneath his knees.

"Hey!" he cried out as I scooped him up and carried him across the kitchen, down the hall, to my bedroom. "You are damned stronger than you look, you know?"

"I know."

We stretched out on his wide bed and found our way to each other's mouth and kissed deeply. "I could do this all night," he said in a low voice.

"Good."

We tugged and wriggled out of our clothes. They only got I the way of our perfect enjoyment.

I remember being amazed at the softness of his skin and the reactions that the barest caress could bring from him. Duo really liked sex. So did I. I found him irresistible and worshiped his body. We rushed right in. No long courtship period. Perfect match.

I was enjoying the pleasure I could give him with such simple strokes, when he suddenly gasped, pulled my hand off him, and rolled to the side.

"Oh...my..." he sighed. "That was fast, heh, heh." He looked into my eyes and said simply, "It's you..."

"Me? Not Shinigami's fault?" It was a silly joke.

And it made him laugh, a belly laugh that started out low and ended up with him wheezing. "No cat involved," he said with a snicker, once he found his voice, and disclosing, "It's mostly just been quite a while." He then balled up some sheet to clean off.

"For me, too," I confessed.

That must have happened the second Sunday he arrived. The first we really just got comfortable talking. On the second we became lovers and the next day was Monday and I had to go to work. The call from Howard woke us up that Monday morning. I couldn't forget that I arrived late to my desk for the first time. It was a late-start Monday in a long line of them.

"Join the club," my officemates had cheered.

I understood, at last, why everyone hated Mondays and often arrived late to work.

"I'm back!" Quatre announced, awakening me out of my pleasant daydream. "I hope Duo arrives soon. I'm getting hungry. Pizza ordered already?"

"Yes." I had taken care of everything earlier.

"He works for Sweepers? Yeah," Trowa acknowledged and processed the information I'd given him. "That figures. Working junk pickup in space is one way broke kids use to get off a distant colony; sign onto a sweeper ship and work out the passage."

While Howard was on Earth, selling the scrap they had collected, Duo was free to do whatever he wanted or could afford.

"But Duo is currently living on Earth, right?" Quatre asked. "He's moving in with you, you just said."

"That's correct."

"Will he continue going back and forth into space?" Quatre asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. Aside from seeing him on Sunday and for a brief interval Monday mornings, I had little idea how he spent the rest of his time. I assumed at Howard's scrapyard or the Sweeper's dock. He never talked about other friends or bars or his co-workers.

"Isn't it important? Won't he pay rent when he's not here?" Quatre asked. "Aren't you curious?"

"No." I knew someday he would tell me when he was ready. I wasn't charging him rent to live with me. He was my lover.

Wufei stood tottering in the doorway, up from the couch he'd been carried to for recovery. He had a sensitive nervous system and learning that Duo was officially moving into my house had been too much.

I didn't tease him about his weakness, but I could have. I could have told him that Duo and I slept together after knowing each other one week. He and Zechs had waited months, and that after a carefully formulated program worked out beforehand and culminating in a series of dates. Very formal and correct. Wufei was my friend so I didn't tell him about our compressed wooing period. I'd upset him enough for one day.

"Better?" I acknowledged his grumpy iguana presence and he blinked.

"But I wanted to know-!" Quatre began.

Before Quatre or Trowa could question me further, I heard the sound of a Volkswagen engine. "Duo's here. You can meet him now."

(o)

I stepped out to the parking to meet Duo first and remind him, or warn him, depending on whether or not I'd told him my friends would be there this Sunday for the purpose of meeting him.

"Your buds? Yeah, you said they'd stop by. 'Sokay. These are friends not the enemy, right?"

"That's right." I needed to warn him. "Just so you know, Wufei's a little ruffled—he fell for the drinking and driving thing and the combination of the car re-build sticker price and the fact that you are moving in put him in shock."

"Maybe you went overboard on the story, 'Ro."

"No, I didn't. You weren't around for their 'how I met the most amazing man in the universe' stories. This was my way of getting even. Besides, Quatre figured out I was joking about the drunk driving part."

"You could have told them I was a hunchback or something. Drinking? Really? That's a hard rap to beat."

"Just be yourself. They'll love you… well, Quatre will. He loves everyone."

"Everyone? He loves that cannibal serial killer?"

"No, and you know that wasn't what I meant." I looked him up and down. Duo was dressed very nicely, conservatively. "Ready? I'll introduce you."

"No, don't tell me which is which. Let me guess."

I hoped he'd begin with Quatre, who'd be helpful with introductions if things got rocky. He didn't. He nosed out Wufei first. I should have guessed from experience that Duo wasn't one to avoid an accidental conflict.

"Meet it straight on," I heard him mumble as he loped by me and past the other two. "Chang Wufei." Duo humbled himself with a bow in the presence of the dragon.

"Charmed," Wufei said with a grunt.

"Char-ming!" Duo smiled and winked as a sign that he was pleased with his own clever comeback.

The last clan leader of L5 had been a Ming and had taken the Western first name of Charles. The joke had been folks nicknamed him Prince Charming. "Char" was also close to "Chao", meaning "great one", probably why the clan leader had chosen "Charles"; and close in sound to "Cong-Min" a man's name meaning "intelligent". This was not wasted on Wufei, who was stunned to silence.

"Heero told me you were a lawyer-," Duo began, but Wufei was fast on the draw.

"—and you aren't going to hold that against me, you were going to say?"

Duo chuckled. "Yeah, got me there. Even?"

"For now," Wufei said with a ghost of a smile.

Duo skipped over to shake hands with Trowa. It was clear they recognized each other on sight. Trowa ran a hand through his bangs to clear his face. I'd seen him do this twice before in order to kiss Quatre. This time he did it to get a better look at Duo, who laughed at him.

"Man, I wondered if I'd ever see _you_ again."

"Sorry," Trowa said it like he didn't mean it and shrugged.

"No problemo. The cargo was clean. You were just doing your job."

"It shouldn't have been." Trowa stood firm on that.

"Like I told you, you get your info from the Tankers and they got it out for Sweepers. They always try and tag Howie for parentheticals."

Duo was talking in code Trowa would understand. By "parentheticals" he meant (il)legal merchandise—illicit items masquerading as legit. {A/N: credit China Miéville's strange book, Kraken, for that concept}.

I understood now that Duo had met Trowa when Trowa had been working Preventers undercover, and neither man had left the other with a great impression. That wasn't good for starters.

Trowa nodded slowly. "Tankers have it out for the Sweepers, you say?"

"Oh, yeah, and _visa versa_. No love lost there." Duo's eyes scanned the horizon, possibly for answers to the problem, or to count crows clustering in the tall pines for the evening. "Until the day they die." He turned back to Trowa looking grim. "Or your people stop listening to their lies and taking them seriously."

"Right." Trowa kept his expression blank.

Duo plastered on a smile, turned away, and shot out his hand. "That leaves Mr. Quatre Raberba Winner of the company by that name."

Quatre shook his hand. "How do you do, Mr….? I don't know your last name."

"Maxwell. Duo Maxwell, at your service."

"Mr. Maxwell. Well, please, call me Quatre." His smile glowed sincerity and authenticity.

"Duo."

"I can tell we're going to be great friends."

"You can? You a fortune-teller?" Duo seemed amused.

Quatre rested his hand over his heart. "You've a good heart. I can feel it."

Duo laughed. "You and 'Ro…hearts big as the universe. No, bigger! The universe is too small for you, heh, heh… Wanna do 'Ro a favor?"

"Does he need one?" Quatre asked cautiously.

"Not really, but if you can convince your buds that I'm not out to swindle anyone, especially not the greatest dude in the universe, that would be nice."

"That is your job," Quatre told him. "You can do it."

"Actions speak louder than words you mean?"

"Yes, and so far the actions you've taken put your motives in question."

"Ah, they do?"

Quatre nodded. "I can look into your heart and know that you honestly adore Heero, but they can't. So, you see, it's up to you to do the convincing."

The two locked eyes, blue on blue. I could feel the tension in Trowa flare, and even I wondered for a moment if the two men were going to kiss.

"I know you can do it," Quatre whispered.

I ushered everyone into the kitchen. "Drinks in the refrigerator. Pizza should be here anytime."

Duo turned around and went back out. "Getting chairs!"

Quatre mouthed to me, "He's hot!" and fanned his neck as he followed Duo into the garage. "I can carry a few."

I hesitated and, when I saw Trowa make a move, I shot ahead, blocking his path to the garage. I was going to trust Duo; if I overheard any of their conversation it would be purely by chance.

"Thanks." Duo unfolded two chairs from a box and carried them over before pulling out another pair. These were the ones that matched my table. "I shoulda done this earlier."

"You knew we were coming?"

"Well, sorta. He told me he'd _invited_ you."

"But you didn't think we'd come?"

"I wasn't sure."

"Move or I'll move you." Trowa stood and stared at me. "I promise to just help."

"And I'll hold you to that," I said, giving him space to go by me.

Trowa entered the garage and took a chair from Quatre.

"Checking up on us?" Duo said, joking.

"Lending a hand." Trowa turned away, chairs in hands. I could see the slight blush across his cheeks as he passed me coming back inside.

"Is he afraid you'll run away with me or that I'll hide your body inna crate?" Duo said just loud enough that Trowa and I could hear him.

Quatre chuckled and took one of Duo's chairs. "More the former than the latter."

"Ha! I do like you Quat."

"Me, too, Duo. Oh, there's the delivery van." Quatre leaned the chair against the door post. "I want to catch him before Heero does. I wanted this to be my treat!"

"Better run!"

The rest of the afternoon flew by as we put away a lot of pizza and soda. Duo proved to Wufei that people from L2 ate and drank just like everyone else, and not off the floor like dogs.

"Heero told us you liked home brews," Trowa said, popping the top off one for himself.

Duo set down his bottle of lemon-lime soda. "Nope. Don't drink at all."

Wufei spurted a mouthful of water and sat up. "Yuy!"

I shrugged indifference, which could be taken as an apology, and took a bite of my pepperoni pizza.

"I get regular testing for any and all substance abuse to keep my pilot's license; the one for space craft is highly regulated. It's just easier not to take anything or get started drinking. 'Ro musta been thinking of a friend of mine, Hilde. She got into home brewing back on L2."

"I see." Trowa shook his head at me.

He earned a moment of respect from Trowa with a story about risking his life to save another ship damaged in space. "They found out that pilot had been flying under the influence and, well, he ain't flyin' no more. It instilled in me the desire to play it straight." Duo gave me a sideways glance. "Mostly," he added.

Trowa barked a laugh, making Duo blush. "We didn't think you were just moving into the spare room as a paying guest."

"Not _paying_, certainly," Wufei slipped in.

"Oh, I plan to pay him back for _eveeerything_," Duo said. "Just have to wait a bit for—"

"—For your ship to come in?" Trowa suggested.

"How'd you know about that?" Duo asked. He seemed anxious all of a sudden.

Trowa tipped his head to the side. "Lucky guess? It's just a saying."

"Oh, well, I kinda am. Then I can make everything right."

"It's your intention to repay Heero for the entire restoration of your car?" Wufei asked. He may have been taken in by the drunk driving part of the story, but when it came to the car repairs he had papers, proof of damage done, plenty of evidence to back him up.

"Crazy thing to do, huh?" Duo said. "I told him so. It wasn't even my car."

"What?" Wufei looked as if he'd bite my head off. I sat back a bit more, just in case.

"I was borrowing an old clunker of Howie's, until, well, while I was temporarily planet side. He was gonna scrap it for the metal, but it still ran, and I begged, so he let me have it. And I'd _still_ be driving it _in all its rusty glory_ if 'Ro hadn't slammed on his brakes in the middle of the roadway."

It had to come out sometime. I concentrated on drinking and swallowing, while Wufei led the others in a round of snapping at me.

Snap, snap, grrrr snap.

When the brouhaha settled down, they were all waiting for my explanation.

Duo was grinning and shaking his head, looking at his plate. "You can dig your way outta this one on your own, buddy."

I see. The truth, then. "It was a dog, running after a squirrel, and dark."

"Oh, Heero, of course you couldn't run over the little animals, but you might have caused a serious accident," Quatre said. He'd been careful not quite to absolve me for my error in judgment.

Wufei grumbled in his native language, but I understood the gist of what he meant by the one word directed at me, "…bastard…"

"I contacted Howard and bought the car and had it restored and gave it to Duo so he'd have a vehicle." _There._ All cleared up.

There were a few more words said on the subject, more mopping up, but really they all knew the score. When it came to new boyfriend introductions, Yuy was one up on them all!

Which didn't help my case when it came to getting my old friends to like my new one. Although, Wufei possibly liked Duo more than me now. Quatre, I didn't worry about. He clearly had liked Duo from the start. The conversation ebbed and flowed, taking a new direction, thanks to Quatre. He asked about the infamous Shinigami, and Duo and he got to comparing snooty cats like they'd known each other for years.

Quatre's Angora would win the contest for Biggest Pest, I suspected. It was a dreadful animal I'd looked after once, after Wufei had "washed his hands of that terror". I guess it was Trowa who took care of it now, when Quatre had to be out of town. He sat arms folded watching Duo more closely than I would have liked.

Quatre was saying, "I hadn't packed her food, thinking it would be available everywhere."

"Cat food is in every market, isn't it?" Duo asked.

"You would think so, wouldn't you? Apparently not this one brand. Princess is so devoted to her canned mackerel, that she avoided everything else for three days! I thought she'd die of starvation before I could locate more of the product. I had to have it shipped, five cases in fact, to L4, where we were visiting family—"

"_We_?" Trowa put in, suspiciously.

"Yes, just Princess and I went. It was my family on L4."

"Lemme get this straight," Duo said. "You shipped _case_ loads of cat food from Earth to L4 to appease your cat's tastebuds?"

"I did."

"You win!" Duo declared.

Told you.

The day came to an end. One by one, they took their leave, Wufei first.

"I am glad to have met you, and very sorry you have chosen this bastard to live with." He gave me his very special Glare of Chang on his way by me, so I knew we were still on good terms.

Quatre and Duo exchanged a close hug, promising to "get together sometime next week to go shopping".

Trowa shook Duo's hand with a curt promise of his own, "Later." He stalked after Quatre with a warning glance to my boyfriend that didn't get past me so I glowered my own warning in exchange.

"Think I passed inspection?" Duo asked when he closed the door.

"I think you did," I told him, all the while wrapping him in my arms. "Sharing the chairs made a big impression. My rickety pair were never well received."

"Yeah, sure." He laughed. "It was the chairs that turned the tide. Geez, 'Ro. You had to make me out to be a real loser? A drunk and an unlicensed driver and totally dependent on you… a sponger, really, 'Ro?"

"They know better now."

"Somewhat, but the needy bit hits close to home, you know."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure Quatre wants to be your best friend."

"Second best," Duo said. "I got you for first best."

He didn't seem to care much more about what my friends thought about him, turning all his attention on me, forgiving me.

His mouth was warm and wet and inviting. We left a trail of clothing on our way to the bedroom. Our bedroom. He was living with me. Our home.

He was hot. He liked it fast and hard. He liked it slow and gentle. He gave; he received. He was spectacular. That's why I didn't press him for details about his past. He asked nothing of me, of mine. He just gave and gave and gave of his body.

I could have been happy living that way, I think, forever.

(o)

Then one day shortly after that meeting, he came charging up in his car, the restored VW. I heard him dashing to the door, so I opened it first. And there he was with a gigantic cat in his arms. A damned gorgeous thing with a beastly amount of black fur and white patches on her nose and paws.

"I got it!" he exclaimed.

"I can see. It's a cat."

"Not just a cat, this is Shinigami! My cat!"

I opened the door and offered him tea and water for the cat.

"Yeah, thanks. Air travel is rotten for cats. I gotta run out for some food for her, but I wanted to stop by with the news."

"Well, she's… big… and very furry… pretty."

"That she is, but that's not all!"

Now that he'd set her on the floor, I noticed he had a slip of paper in his hand. "What that?"

"What? Oh, yeah, the big news. The junkyard sold and Hilde says my portion of the proceeds are being sent to my account as we speak—minus the cost of shuttling Shini across the universe, heh, heh."

I felt like Wufei asking, "How much?"

"Two hundred million creds," he said, grinning ear from ear. "I can pay you back completely now."

"And then some!" That was a more than I made in a year, and my engineering job paid well. "Congratulations, Duo."

"And my ship did actually come in. What with the parts I got stored in the crate, I can fix'er up and sell it."

"You loved that ship. You said."

"Yeah, but after selling my little skipper craft and the storage facility," he continued his shockwave of information, "that'll add up to another four hundred million creds."

I was speechless.

"And since you've put me up for so long, I'd like to do something special for you."

"Not necessary."

"Yeah, it is. I call Howie and told him I won't be shipping out with him again. And he offered me a job here at the Port of Sanc in charge of his fleet of ships; you know, repairs and shit when they dock. I'd have plenty of free time when he's not here to work on my own projects. That would get me outta your hair."

He was fumbling with the end of his braid with that confidence-drained look he had the day we met on the road in the car wreck—that I had caused. He didn't want to leave, but he was giving me an out to take if I was tired of him. I didn't want out.

"Who said I wanted you out of my hair? I'm not complaining about having you around."

"Wow." His smile seemed tentative and he still gripped the tie-end of that braid. "Just wow, 'Ro. You are one in a million."

"And don't sell the ship."

"But-?"

"You can fly us around. Teach me," I suggested.

"I could-."

"You're not thinking of moving out?!"

"You want me to stay?"

"Absolutely, I do. As long… as long as possible."

His smile spread like sunshine. "Ah, geez, 'Ro, that's sounds a little like marriage."

"If it does, than will you?"

"Will I… marry you?" The braid swung when he dropped it. I caught it on the third swing.

"That's what I asked." I tugged a little and reeled him closer.

"Seriously?"

"Very."

His grin showed his teeth and his eyed sparkled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, yeah, you bet I will!"

Threw himself in my arms and we kissed for a very long time.

"So, is that all?" I asked, joking.

"There's one more thing… oh, yeah, Shini's expecting, so prepare yourself for a shitload of kittens any time."

"You've supplied us with plenty of boxes and I have extra towels," I told him.

"Yeah, I guess we got everything."

"You can't have too many kittens," I agreed_. Stupidly._

**The End.**


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